Common Motives
by SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Cruel Sydney Underhill has discovered exactly what turns the gears of the Armada clockworks….and decides to use this to her advantage. By knowing this, she has signed herself up for a deadly race. A race in which all the competitors are vying for the exact same thing…..all with equal and common motives. This story does not have a by-the-game plot.
1. Chapter 1

**Common Motives**

**By: SeverinadeStrango**

**A Pirate101 fanfiction**

**Summary: Cruel Sydney Underhill has discovered exactly what turns the gears of the Armada clockworks….and decides to use this to her advantage. By knowing this, she has signed herself up for a deadly race. A race in which all the competitors are vying for the exact same thing…..all with equal and common motives.**

**Author's Note: This is not a story that has a by-the-game plot. Rating may go up in the future as there will be a copious amount of blood, guts, and insanity in the later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pirate101. The plot and my OCs (including some of the Armada characters) belong to me**.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Invasion**

_BANG! _

_ CRASH!_

Fire licked and tore at the buildings, slowly turning them to ash as the clockwork Armada musketeers stormed the square, shooting the survivors of the gigantic inferno and watching as the corpses fell facedown onto the ground, never to get up again.

Half of Skull Island was up in flames.

Everywhere you looked, you could see the blazing orange fire and the charred remains of what used to be houses and shops and taverns. The screams of the dying and the doomed sliced through the smoke-filled air.

And the clockworks marched on.

At the front, leading the squadron, was Armada Commodore Prima Militus.

The defective, hence her gender and switched names.

Behind her, the White Cadre and their Captain, Servus Albus.

All of them unaffected by the burnt bodies that lay strewn across their path, leaking pools of useless blood.

Shouts of panic and terror were the sounds of success.

Looking behind her, the Armada Commodore noticed that a few of the clockwork soldiers were missing, presumably killed in the struggles put up by some of the pirate residents. But it did not matter. For every fallen clockwork there were a hundred dead pirates.

And that was all that mattered.

_Obliterate the pirate haven and anything alive on it. There is no room for them!_

She knew precisely what would happen next. They would continue further into the center of the island and Servus Albus would call for reinforcements, to replace their lost numbers. Then they would tear down anything standing, anything remaining in their way. The residents would be shot without hesitation and the Armada would be victorious, one step closer to creating a perfect spiral.

And with those orders set in their clockwork memories, they marched forward.

* * *

From his window, Gruesome Hunter Chamberlain watched the Armada invasion of Skull Island.

They were coming to him slowly, those clockwork fiends, and then he would have his opportunity.

He hated the Armada.

_They deserve nothing but pain, _he thought, smiling sadistically to himself, _pain. _

_They should be drawn and quartered. Be given death by a thousand cuts. Whipped with the cat until they are no longer able to stand. _

"What's so funny….?" The skeletal, black haired girl curled up in the armchair next to him raised her head.

It was only then that Hunter realized he had been laughing.

"They're here, Dangler….." He said, running a hand through her tangled hair. "We're going to have some fun."

Her eyes lit up.

"_Really?_ How many are there?" She said eagerly, springing up from the chair and plastering herself to the window, trying to get a better view of the Armada squadron.

"I don't know exactly. Maybe about forty musketeers and twenty marines. And two officers." Hunter replied.

Dangler knew exactly what would happen next.

They would go outside together, as the Armada squadron was approaching the heavily populated area of the island. Then they would take the officers and watch the squadron fall.

It was a win-win situation for everyone, wasn't it? The attack would cease and they would have a new form of entertainment for the next few months. Or longer. Hopefully longer. Depends on how strong the officers were.

She smiled and giggled, excitement rushing through her. She had spent the last few weeks learning several torture curses and now they could finally be put to use. Being a witchdoctor had its advantages.

"Be ready, Dangler. We're going to go soon." Hunter said, picking up his staff and pushing his brown hair out of his eyes.

She nodded.

"I can't wait. I can't wait! We're going to have so much fun..."

* * *

**Well, here goes. Another let's-go-make-people-die story. **

**Let me know how you like it! I'll try and have chapter 2 posted by next week. **

**- Severina**


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised, here's chapter 2! It's rather long this time. **

**Thanks to anyone who reviewed! Reviews are my oxygen! (Well, not pure oxygen, because then I'd explode...)**

**So enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Plans Unraveled**

Prima Militus barely flinched as the female Swashbuckler pirate smashed into her from behind, sending them both toppling to the ground.

These "fighters" were an annoyance. Always causing hindrances.

The swashbuckler was small and thin, like most of them were, and she was holding a razor-sharp dagger, which she was attempting to drive into the chest of the Armada Commodore while trying to pin said clockwork officer down. She was yelling loudly, too. Something about "you shot my brother". Or at least that's what it sounded like. Prima couldn't really tell, the girl was crying so hard it was messing with her speech.

Pathetic.

A marine marched up from behind the girl and drove the blade of his halberd into her back, causing her to suddenly freeze, blood dripping from her mouth. Prima flung the now lifeless body off of her and stood back up, taking her place at the front of the squadron. The sooner these pirates were eradicated, the better.

* * *

Dangler stood in a narrow alleyway in between two houses, watching silently as the Armada squadron marched past. Although she had to make sure she wasn't seen, she also had to do this fast, as soon the buildings on either side of her would burn to the ground and greatly lessen her chances of surviving this night.

As she watched, one of the officers, the one in the white uniform, dropped behind the squadron and slowed down, right in front of her little hiding spot, his back turned towards her.

_Wait, wha-_

Reinforcements.

Hunter had told her a while back.

Armada Captains could call for backup at any time to replace their defeated.

_Can't let that happen. _

She had to do it now.

Dangler lunged forwards and grabbed him from behind, clapping a hand over his mouth and hooking her other arm around his waist, dragging him backwards into the shadows and then slamming him roughly into the stone wall.

The rather disoriented officer started to get back to his feet, but before he could, Dangler had catapulted herself onto him and knocked him down once again, this time grabbing his shoulders and slamming his head repeatedly onto the cobblestones. It would be a little while before he would be able to move again.

She looked behind herself quickly; making sure none of the other clockworks had seen her. Dangler didn't want to deal with anything else right now.

Unwinding a long black strip of fabric that had been hanging around her narrow waist, she tied it over the blank eye holes in the officer's mask, knotting it tightly. It was undetermined whether or not the clockworks could see, but she wasn't taking any chances.

_I'll have to be careful , _she thought, dragging him away. _Let's not have a repeat of the last time._ It was always _so_ disappointing when their systems finally gave out and they collapsed to the floor, never to move again. _That's not going to happen, _she thought, _it's not going to happen this time…_

* * *

…

An unidentified male pirate swung his axe at the Armada Commodore, only to be blocked by her musket. She was knocked several feet to the right from the force of the blow, but regained balance quickly and fired once at him. He twisted once in pain before toppling to the ground, his axe making an obnoxiously loud _clang_ as it hit the stone pathway. She returned to the "attention" position, as emotionless as ever. It was much quieter than usual, which meant that most of the pirates were probably eliminated.

She was dead wrong.

Her squadron was literally in pieces, scattered all over the ground, struck down by the pirates, some of them sparking or weakly twitching, most of them disfigured, destroyed, and lying still. Prima twisted her head rapidly, looking for just _one _other standing clockwork, which would give her a _much _better chance of surviving the night, judging by the entire army of pirates that surrounded her now, waiting silently.

_What had happened to reinforcements?_

Servus was supposed to call for them.

_Where is Servus?_

Gone.

_One of the fallen ones?_

Undetermined.

So she really only had one option.

Prima turned and ran, shoving through the crowd before the pirates had a chance to react and sprinting away as fast as possible, knowing full well that they were most likely charging behind her. She had dropped her musket earlier; it was useless against the crowd. _It's not supposed to work this way, it's not supposed to work this way!_

They were faster than her and she knew it, she could hear the pounding of their feet getting closer and closer and closer. Soon, she could literally feel their breath on the back of her neck. Suddenly, she was enveloped in a strange green mist, her energy being sapped away at short intervals. What was happening? Was she malfunctioning and now seeing things?

Her legs gave out and the world seemed to spin as she collapsed onto the ground, able to see but not able to move any more. They had her now. She had failed. She had _failed to follow orders._

Hunter Chamberlain lowered his staff and kicked the clockwork officer once, watching as she limply rolled over on her back. He raised his eyebrows and laughed arrogantly, planting a foot on her chest.

"Skull Island remains ours!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, the noise loud enough to practically blow his hair back.

He lifted the thin form of the Armada Commodore easily, turning and walking away. The crowd could be left to their rejoicing, he really couldn't care less. There were more important things on his mind. Dangler had probably gotten the other officer a while ago, knowing her, and was most likely back at the house. She was always so impatient, never being able to wait for anything.

Hunter laughed again, a feeling of absolute power surging through his veins.

He would make sure that the Armada knew pain.

* * *

ON BOARD _THE GRAND FIFE_

Cruel Sydney Underhill fell several feet to the left as another volley of cannonballs was fired from and at her ship, shaking it forcefully. She _knew _it was a bad idea to let Samantha steer, as the buccaneer would try to get them into every combat possible.

Sydney was messing with the immobile Armada clockwork again, just like she had been doing quite a lot ever since they had attained him.

So far, nothing she had tried had worked. He remained lifeless as ever.

_I've been trying forever,_ she thought, _and still nothing._

It had been nearly a month now, but she still remembered every detail and event of that week.

They had been hiding out in the ancient ruins, hiding from the clockworks that endlessly patrolled the area. They didn't last very long as Samantha Hawkins, being the loud and obnoxious buccaneer that she was, gave them away to the Armada almost every time they tried to move locations. They would then have to fight their way out of many situations, often sustaining several injuries. Jewel Zabra, the swashbuckler of the group, had nearly died once because of this.

Then there was that one incident.

They were not prepared for the fight, nor had they been expecting it. That Armada musketeer had seemed to appear from out of nowhere. He had ambushed them single-handedly, probably finding their hiding location by listening for Samantha's yelling, catching them completely off guard. In the end, the three of them had barely managed to bring him down.

By then, other Armada clockworks had been alerted by the sounds of the fight and were slowly making their way over.

If they saw the fallen musketeer, Sydney had said, they'll be onto us. And none of the three were in the mood for an all-out small war, especially given the fact that they were all battered and bruised with not much energy left.

So nevertheless, they had ended up dragging the musketeer all the way back to their ship.

They had _supposed_ it would be all right. They were hiding the evidence, escaping, and getting a chance to learn more about their enemy all at once.

Another cannonball slammed into the ship, causing it to pitch violently, jerking Sydney out of her thoughts just as her poleaxe, which had been leaning against the wall, fell forwards towards her.

Against her better judgment, she had stopped the axe by grabbing the blade with her bare hands and slicing her palm open instead of just stepping aside. She hissed in pain, hopping from one foot to the next and shaking her cut hand, causing blood to splatter everywhere, on the walls, on the floor, and all over the face of the unmoving clockwork soldier.

"Crap!" She dropped the axe to the floor with a loud _thud_ and dropping to her knees, using her sleeve to hurriedly swipe off the blood from the soldier's face, even though some of it had already splattered into the blank eye holes in his mask. The last thing she needed was for him to start sparking or something and light the whole freaking ship on fire. There had been no combustions so far, luckily. _So far, so good. _

"Sydney! Up here! Combat!" Sydney jerked her head up. So they were going to fight again.

"All right, be there!" She shouted back in the general direction of her cabin door. Standing up, she wrapped her bloodied hand tightly in a piece of cloth, grabbed her poleaxe up from the floor and sprinted out the door to fight what must have been the thirty-second combat that Sam had gotten them into in one day alone.

She slammed the door behind her and immediately stalked to the center of the deck, fully prepared for a good fight.

Behind the cabin door, all was silent.

Then there were several rigid clicks, slowly getting faster and faster.

A loud snap.

And the Armada musketeer stood up.

* * *

**So yes, I have introduced my main character in this chapter.**

**Review, guys! Let me know how you like it!**

**So far I'm keeping my word in updating...so hopefully I'll have chapter three up by next week :D**

**- Severina **


	3. Chapter 3

**I realize that I haven't updated in two months D: all I can do is beg for your forgiveness. **

**Thank you to anyone and everyone who reviewed! It makes me so happy to know that you are enjoying the story!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Reset**

Sydney dropped her axe onto the deck and heaved a sigh, feeling rather disappointed. That last combat had been far, far too easy. Or maybe it was just her. To Sydney, everything seemed boring. She was a boring person.

She even looked boring. There was absolutely nothing special about her. She didn't have long, flowing blonde hair up in ringlets or eyes that "reflected the inner beauty of her soul". Sydney was tall, but not uncommonly so. Her black hair was shoulder length and coarse, not glossy or soft like she wished it to be sometimes. Her eyes were clear and grey, but they seemed to simply just _be there. _Nothing more. Most people wouldn't notice her on first glance.

Leaning against the railing of the ship, she pushed her black tricorn hat at an angle and attempted to stand up straighter. She _had _to stop slouching. It looked terrible.

Behind her, her two shipmates, Nimble Jewel Zabra and Obnoxious Samantha Hawkins were arguing with each other again, no doubt over some useless and irrelevant topic. It seemed that they couldn't go for five minutes without snapping at each other. Yet they insisted that they were the "best of friends." Sydney exhaled irritably and cocked an eyebrow. They had yet to prove this claim true. But who could blame them for arguing? They had the most clashing personalities.

It was possible to tell that Samantha, the buccaneer, was annoying just by looking at her. She had straight black hair and enormous, ice- blue eyes, and almost always had a little smile on her face that indicated she had screwed up something _badly_ and was now celebrating in the victory. Yet, as bothersome as she was, her shipmates still needed her, as she was the strongest out of the group and was known for being able to lift almost anything if she set her mind to it.

On the contrary, Jewel Zabra, the third member of the crew, was quite the opposite, being quiet, sleek, and slender. She was a swashbuckler, much faster in battle than both Sydney and Samantha, and took much enjoyment in hiding behind corners, only to jump out as one of her friends passed by, effectively scaring them out of their skin. Although many people took Jewel as harmless and innocent due to her petite build, Jewel was extremely nosy. When she wanted to know something, she would find out in one way or the other. There was no hiding information from her.

Their chosen topic of argument this time was a rather commonly used one: whether strength or speed was more important in combat.

"_I _obviously have the advantage," Samantha stated, jerking a thumb at her chest, "I can lift _much _heavier weapons than you. Those Armada clockworks don't stand a chance against me! I could snap their skinny bodies like twigs!"

"Okay, _wonderful_, you can pick up huge blades." Jewel said, raising an eyebrow. "But then what? You just _stand there, _swinging around like a madman, waiting for something to walk right into your _oh-so-amazing _path of destruction?"

"Basically, yes."

"That's not how it works!"

"It works for me."

"_Speed _is the way to go. You won't get hurt if you don't get caught."

"And sneak around like a coward? I think not!"

"WHAT did you just call me?!"

"_Oh no, _did I insult your _pride?_"

Sydney sighed loudly, busying herself with twisting one strand of hair around her finger again and again and again until it cut off her circulation. This argument could either become extremely annoying or extremely entertaining. Either way, she'd watch. She had nothing else to do.

However, the quarrel between her two friends quickly got less and less interesting, and the privateer found herself dozing off, daydreaming once again.

Suddenly, from her cabin, she heard a loud _crash, _immediately followed by a scream. Sydney jumped up, prepared to scream at Samantha for a good hour or two about breaking yet _another _one of her possessions.

_Seriously, this is the eleventh time this week! _Sydney thought as she walked briskly across the deck, her eyebrow twitching in irritation, and blew open the door to her cabin.

"All right, first off, why the _heck _are you in my-"

She then stopped short.

Both Samantha and Jewel were frozen in their fighting stances, Samantha with her hatchet-axe hybrid of a weapon raised above her head and Jewel brandishing both of her razor-sharp daggers, the two of them ready to attack at any moment.

The Armada musketeer was standing in the center of the room.

Sydney snapped out of her trance.

"Guys! Hey, weapons down! He doesn't have his gun, it's all right!" She snapped, and the both of them hastily complied, although Jewel kept one dagger firmly in her hand. Although the Armada musketeers appeared to be very thin, she did not know exactly _how _physically strong they were and wasn't going to take any chances whatsoever.

The privateer slowly walked up to the clockwork soldier, Jewel following her closely. The clockwork did not seem to have any intentions to harm them at the moment; he was simply standing in the middle of the room, his head slightly tilted to one side inquiringly.

Sydney blinked quickly, not knowing what to ask, do, or say, and the words stumbled out of her mouth.

"Who-? How did you-? Was it-? How-?"

There was a ratcheting sound as the clockwork took a step forwards and looked directly at Sydney. She immediately tensed, her hand flying to her side before realizing that she had left her poleaxe on the deck. Jewel pulled out her other dagger, but before any of them could make a move, the clockwork spoke.

"Custos Quintus," he said, his voice monotonous and mechanical, "for the glory of the Armada, Commander."

Sydney's jaw dropped.

* * *

**Yup, so that's chapter three! **

**I'll try to be better at updating from now on, sorry for going all MIA :)**

**On a really random side note, marching season is here and I'm super excited :D Anyone else in marching band?**

**Oh yeah, and last but not least, review!**

**-Severina**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I'm back with the next chapter!**

**Hope you liked my other little story that I posted a couple nights ago. In the future I might be doing more short stories.**

**With that said, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four: All good fun**

Hunter Chamberlain quietly descended the stone stairs that led down to the basement of the house he and Dangler shared, his footsteps echoing off of the dusty walls. It was the dead of night, and he could hear loud claps of thunder from the storm raging outside. _How perfect, _he thought. It seemed to set the mood in a theatrical sort of way.

Although it was rather disturbing and grim, Hunter took great pride in these rooms on the lowest floor.

Several wooden doors lined the single, narrow hallway that made up the basement, each one of them holding grisly reminders and secrets about exactly _what_ took place in them throughout the course of their existence. An example of one of these would be the rather large bloodstain on the leftmost wall in the third room on the right. Hunter smiled wickedly. He would _never _forget Blake. Or how loud he had screamed as Dangler had dismembered him and disfigured him beyond any recognition.

He reached his destination, the fifth door on the left, and pushed it open, stepping inside and slamming the door loudly as if to announce his presence. The air was thick with dust and he resisted the urge to cough.

The single torch on the wall provided barely any light, but it was enough for him to make out the slim figure of the still and silent Armada Commodore. Her wrists and ankles were chained to the wall, the iron manacles clinking softly as she stood up straighter, turning to look at him.

Good. So she _could _move now.

He wondered if she would resist.

Most likely not. The clockworks were extremely intelligent; they could tell if they were in a hopeless situation. Would she _speak_, though?

"Evening, Commodore."

She did not respond immediately, and after a little while Hunter was about to give up. Maybe she just wasn't going to talk today. He turned and headed for the door.

"Why have you brought me here?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned back around, facing Prima Militus. She stared coolly back at him, as emotionless as ever. There was no panic in her monotone voice, and this irked Hunter, even though he had known full well that the armada clockworks were built without emotion. Being given such a _calm _and _collected_ response meant that she did not at all think of him as a noteworthy threat. His stubborn pride got the better of him.

He crossed the room in three steps and grabbed her thin wrists, holding his face inches from hers.

"WHY are you so CALM?!" He spat, color rising to his face in fury. Hunter did not know why his was this angry about such a small thing. Was it the late hour? The lack of sleep he had been getting recently? The storm outside? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

"If your intent is to acquire information about the Armada, you will not attain it." Hunter let go of her and stepped back slightly, glaring.

"I'll have you know that I will attain _whatever_ I want. And _nothing _is going to stop me."

"I will not allow it." Hunter felt frustrated, frenzied. He wasn't thinking about what he was saying. He didn't know what he was saying. The whole point of coming down to the dungeons was to clarify that _she _was the hostage and _he _was her captor. He was _supposed _to come across as intimidating, who was not afraid to harm her brutally in order to get his way. His words must be chosen carefully, he realized, and careful was the exact opposite of what he was right now. It would not be _smart _to continue going on like this.

He swiftly spun on his heel and stalked out the door, slamming it hard, leaving Prima alone in the darkness and silence.

* * *

IN THE SECOND ROOM ON THE RIGHT

Servus Albus, the Armada Captain, had been on alert from the moment he heard her footsteps echoing across the floor.

He knew his system was in danger. She had beaten him senseless just one day ago, and still he could barely move. He hadn't even been tied up, it was useless. An analysis of this brought him to conclude that she wouldn't be any more merciful in future encounters. He was at an enormous disadvantage, lying prone on his side in a twisted heap of limbs and uniform. She had removed his metal vest of armor, leaving him in his uniform coat and revealing exactly how extremely skinny the Armada musketeers had been made. The intent of this was for mobility, but it certainly did not help his situation now.

The door quickly opened and closed and Servus held completely still, listening for any movement, as _she _had tied something over his face to obstruct his vision.

Then suddenly-

"Well, look at you."

The voice came directly from above him and that alone was enough to make him go on high alert. With a snapping sound, he instantaneously shot up into a sitting position before colliding with _something_ above him that refused to let him rise any further.

_Her. _

He could not speak, his voice simply refused to work. She laughed, an eerie cackle that echoed off the stone walls.

She walked off to the side then, and he heard metal objects scraping across a hard surface. Perhaps this was a good thing. If she was distracted, then it would give him a much better chance of-

"Let me get this off of you."

Nope.

She was back again, right next to him. There was no chance. Her bony hand snaked behind his head and worked at the fabric that she had tied around his eye sockets until it came loose and fell to the floor, allowing him to regain his sight.

The instant analysis that was made by the Armada Captain once he was able to see again was that his female captor very closely resembled a human corpse. She was pale and sickly looking and had many protruding bones on several areas of her body. Yet, despite her appearance, she was oddly energetic and her voice had a rather strange tone to it. It was another _emotion_, those weaknesses that the humans had and the Armada did not.

Weak humans. Pathetic humans. Obstructions.

"See this?" She spoke again, holding a metal object in front of his face, waving it around absentmindedly. He identified it as a dagger of some sort, just an ordinary dagger.

Or so it seemed.

With a wide, freakish grin, she brought the tip of the weapon to her finger and prodded it ever so slightly, immediately creating a small fountain of blood.

_If that was just a puncture, a normal wound inflicted by it would-_

She brought it shooting down through the air with a whistling noise, aimed directly at his throat.

_RED ALERT._ Servus tensed and tried to bring his arms up to defend himself, but he could not. She had drained almost all of his energy the previous day.

There was no way his system would survive.

Several seconds passed and Servus could still see, still turn his head, still analyze his situation.

She had stopped the knife only _millimeters _away from his neck. Millimeters away from terminating his functioning. Now chances were not certain. Would he be harmed or would she have mercy?

Once again, she swung the knife through the air.

Once again, Servus calculated that he was not likely to survive.

Then, just like the last time, she stopped _just _before the knife would penetrate his throat, and the chances were now even more unclear. An armada clockwork was lost without his statistics. After all, the ability to calculate statistics was what they depended on to make strategic decisions.

He could do nothing, he _knew _nothing, now that chances were unclear. He was helpless and he knew it.

She seemed to draw encouragement from this.

Again and again, the knife would whizz through the air, seemingly intent on ending him, but stopping short, just in time.

_RED ALERT!_

_ Caution…._

_ RED ALERT!_

_ Caution…._

_ RED ALERT!_

_ Caution…_

_ RED ALERT! _

And it was on this day that Servus Albus finally began to understand the emotion that the pirates called "fear."

* * *

**See ya next chapter!**

**Review!**

**- Severina**


	5. Chapter 5

**Shorter chapter this time, sorry guys :(**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Uncovering**

Sydney Underhill had given up attempting to sail straight through the storm a long time ago. The turbulent winds that tore through Aragon skyway seemed to stretch on endlessly, with no signs of letting up anytime soon. She didn't want to dock and take shelter. The closest island was Granchia, which was absolutely suicidal, especially given that she had Quintus with her. The safest option as of right now was to wait it out and then move back on course later.

She had locked herself in her cabin, not wanting to deal with anything else right now. Sydney paced the room restlessly, attempting to twist a bandage around the healing cut on her palm. It had accidentally been reopened several times due to her forgetfulness, and she did not enjoy leaving giant, bloody handprints on everything she touched. Not to mention, dying of blood loss would also be quite bothersome.

"Do not overexert yourself, Commander." She snapped back to reality, blinking quickly. Quintus had wrapped his long, white fingers around her wrist, pulling it away from her other hand. In her haze of thoughts she had become rather forceful in wrapping her cut, re-opening it once again.

"Oh."

Jerking her arms away from the clockwork, she slumped against the wall, determined to _finally _bandage her hand without damaging it further. She could not help but feel a little disappointed at herself. Such a simple task should not have taken her this long to accomplish.

"Quintus?" He turned his head with a short _click_, looking directly at her.

"Commander."

"Why would _you_ care?"

She stood back up and walked forwards until she was eye-level with him, crossing her arms. "Why does my blood matter?"

"Your system cannot run without it, Commander. It is impossible. If your bloodpaths were to be severed and drained you would be rendered incapacitated. Movement would not be possible. Your function would be terminated."

Sydney took a step back, rather surprised at his response. It was completely accurate. Were she to lose enough blood she would not be able to move and would most likely die.

_Yet, _she thought, _what a strange analogy. _The way he answered, in some way, was as if _she _was also a clockwork. _How strange._

"Bloodpaths? Do you mean veins?"

He tilted his head slightly to the side in what seemed like uncertainty.

Sydney pushed up her left coat and shirt sleeve, exposing her forearm. She pointed at her wrist. "Like these. You know, veins?"

"Yes, these." He said, placing a slim finger on her wrist. "These are your bloodpaths. However….yours…..are blue…."

"Of course they're blue. Aren't they supposed to be?"

"I did not think so."

_What?!_

She furrowed her brow, confused. _What did he mean, 'I did not think they were blue?' What other color would it be? It is blue because that blood lacks oxygen, just like in any other breathing person or animal!_

"They shouldn't be blue?"

"No, Commander."

"Then…what should they be?"

_What COULD they be?_ _Is there any other possibility?_

"Glass."

Sydney didn't say anymore after that.

She brushed past Quintus, crossing her cabin, and pulled herself into her cramped box bed, too bewildered and exhausted to do anything else. The clockwork remained standing and still in the center of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

Unlike any other pirate she had ever heard of, Sydney had a strange fixation on the Armada and their "marionette" soldiers. She found them fascinating and intriguing, a mystery to be solved. _So many things to be uncovered, _she thought, _so many wonderful things. _

The clockworks, particularly the musketeers, were eerily beautiful in a way that entranced the privateer. They were slender and so seemingly delicate, yet void of all beauty beyond that which was physical. It saddened her sometimes, knowing that they were built against her and her comrades. Empty shells designed to kill people like her, the _imperfections._

But she wondered-she had always wondered-was there more to these mechanical marionettes?

Glass.

_They should be made of glass._

_ Quintus, do you bleed?_

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**Review :)**

**- Severina**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again, I'm so sorry for my lack of updates. No matter what it might seem like, I will never abandon this story. I promise I'll update whenever I can. **

**With that said, here's chapter 6!**

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**Chapter Six: Broken Beyond Repair**

Prima wasn't at all shaken when that shallow witchdoctor, Hunter, had once again come to observe her. Other than remembering that _he has assaulted an Armada officer_, the Commodore remained completely indifferent to his presence.

After all, she _knew _what was going to happen to her, and in that she was _certain_. _Chances _were _certain_.

She would be terminated. That would be her fate. Sooner or later, she would be terminated by either one of these two witchdoctors. Terminated. Ended. No more. Just like her subordinate, Captain Servus Albus. He had been terminated just recently.

Even with the thick walls and doors in this dungeon, she had heard and could still remember the giddy, shrill laughter of his female tormentor. Such a being like that was _sadistic_, she told herself, meaning that they were a special type. They enjoyed the pain of others. Actually, it was more than that. They derived _pleasure _from it.

_What a weakness to have, lust. _Prima was in no way familiar with this emotion, but she did know that it was a powerful, demanding one that took over the minds and intellect of the humans, pushing them forward, not letting them stop at _anything, _driving them _mad_ until they had obtained their desire. The humans were absolutely powerless against it. _They were puppets, too._

She hadn't even seen Servus's tormentor yet, and already she knew that the human female was wrong in the head. No, no, it wasn't just enough to _kill_. That woman would _rip him apart _until that lust was curbed for the time being. There was no stopping her, not until she was satisfied.

He _couldn't _have lasted. Prima had heard the footsteps of the woman as she walked out the door.

"I know what you're thinking, Commodore," Hunter mused, watching Prima carefully as he casually leaned against one of the walls, a smirk playing on his face. "You're thinking about how _he didn't make it_, am I correct? How that painted, uniformed puppet officer is now nothing more than a piece of scrap metal splayed on the stone floor?"

"That is correct, pirate."

"Well, let me tell you something."

Prima turned her head, focusing her gaze in his direction.

"You're completely wrong."

And at that point, all analogies in her head went blank.

_Wrong?_

"Ah, Dangler, I was just about to come looking for you. Good timing." The door opened, and torchlight flooded into the dark room for a split second before closing once again.

"Actually, I've got something I think the Commodore would like to see….." Prima's head snapped up at the sound of the shrill female voice. _Dangler, _that was the woman's name.

_Not a woman. A cadaver. Nothing more than a pathetic thing wasted away by emotions. It was possible to tell just by looking at her. She hadn't always looked like this. Something had driven her this deterioration. _

But what was that she was holding up….?

It was difficult for her vision to focus, especially because it was close to pitch-black darkness.

From where she was standing, it looked like a puppet, standing limp, only held upright by invisible strings. Looking closer, she could make out the very faint outline of an Armada musketeer's coat.

Servus.

"Impossible."

"Ah, but, Commodore, here it is. The _impossible_. Right in front of you." Hunter paced the room slowly, allowing a smile to play at the corners of his lips. Dangler broke into a string of giddy laughter and her grin grew wider, stretching her face freakishly.

"Look at him now. He's so helpless!" She lifted his arms once with her skeletal hands before letting them fall back to his sides, and Prima noticed the complete lack of control he had over his own movements. The Armada Captain was standing on his own two feet, yes, but it seemed they were only balanced under him, merely holding up his motionless body. There was no doubt, that woman had harmed him severely.

Yet, strangely, when Prima looked closer at him, she could find no physical damage.

There wasn't a single crack on his porcelain face or evidence of cuts or wounds anywhere on his body.

She was confused. If her observations were correct, then why was it that he was barely able to support his own weight?

Dangler walked forwards, stopping less than a foot away from Prima, with her subordinate officer in between her and the crazed woman. With almost mocking tenderness, Dangler lifted his head up so that he was staring directly at Prima's face.

"Captain Servus Albus, respond." She ordered, expecting him to, like the clockworks were programmed to do, salute and reply, "For the glory of the Armada."

But he did not.

She could see his lips trembling, his hands slightly shaking. He was trying to. But even something so deeply programmed into his inner workings took more physical strength then he possessed and he could not.

Or was it more than that?

"Look at my work! Look!" Dangler nodded eagerly, shaking the giant mass of tangled black hair on her head.

"I do not understand."

"Of course you don't. But, you know, he doesn't know either."

Prima did not respond. This woman, Dangler, talked in riddles.

"He can't even _do _anything anymore. See? See? He doesn't _know _anything, so he can't _do _anything. I made sure of that." She placed a long nailed hand on her chest, seemingly taking pride in this statement. "He doesn't know if his commanding officer is harmed or unscathed for now. He doesn't know if Hunter and me really hate you clockwork devils, or if we worship you. He doesn't even know if he's dead or alive."

_Chances were unclear. There were no chances._ _Without chances, everything is void and uncertain._

"I broke him, Commodore! And one way or another, we're gonna do it to you, too! I'll teach Hunter how to, I don't think he's ever done it before. We'll do it differently, though, 'cause doing the same thing over again is _boring_. I think I'll involve physical harm this time, it's slower but definitely more fun…."

Dangler's voice seemed to fade into the background, and as Prima looked at the other officer, who was struggling to hold himself up, who could not act because of the dreaded uncertainty, she knew that her breaking had already begun.

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**I just want to say thank you to my subscribers and reviewers for reading and enjoying, even if I only seem to update once every millennium. **

**Please do review. It always puts a smile on my face and encourages me to update sooner :)**

**-Severina**


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